


Hungry and Hollow

by interstellar_corvid



Series: Still living with your ghost [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Slash, Slice of Life, Trauma, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 04:38:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellar_corvid/pseuds/interstellar_corvid
Summary: For all the things you took away





	Hungry and Hollow

Doug hasn't been warm in a long, long time. 

He's safe, kind of, and off that damn ship, but no matter how many blankets he piles on, he can't stop shaking. The infirmary of Kepler's ship has that clinical chill to it, and Doug is kind of afraid of the guy, so he's sticking to occasionally stealing blankets from the cot next to his. Until his skinny frame stops shaking for long enough for him to get up, he'll have to live with two.

To take his mind off of his missing fingernails and lack of hair and freezing skeletal limbs, he thinks. Daydreams, like he used to, back when his only pressing worry was avoiding Hilbert's physicals. 

Hilbert. The old creep takes over a few too many, turning a pleasant escape into a nightmare. The same happens with the… ice. Doug doesn't want to think too deep into that one, because today is good and he's only choked and scrambled for breath over the noise of his own thoughts one or twice, and he refuses to go batshit crazy. He tries to turn his thoughts to more pleasant times, and ends up fantasizing.

Doug's heard Kepler's crew. They're headed to the Hephaestus. Headed to his crew. His friends, his family- and Lovelace, whatever she could be considered. Somewhere between the two, he guesses. God, he's excited, but somehow he's scared too. It almost seems pathetic- almost a year alone with nothing but his thoughts and the dark and the cold, and he's scared to reunite with his best friends? It kind of makes him wish Hera was around, to give him the statistics on how stupid he was being. Maybe even Minkowski, to slap some sense into him. 

《-------------------------------------------------》

The deck is  _ right there _ , and Doug can hear voices.  _ Their  _ voices- sounds he never thought he'd hear again. 

Just as he's about to set foot on the Hephaestus for the first time in way too long, a chill wracks his thin frame. Clutching the military regulation jacket tighter, he draws his knit cap down, suddenly filled with intense trepidation. What if things had changed? What if they realized they were better off without stupid old Doug and his stupid old questions? Honestly, he wouldn't blame them. 

Lost in his own thoughts, he almost doesn't hear Hera's voice. God, he missed her. She's trying to get the commander's, Lovelace's, and Kepler's attention, for some reason or another. 

Suddenly, the attention is on him, standing half in half out of the doorway. Doug can hear Minkowski addressing him, asking him if it really is him, how can it be him, he was dead. Something feels oddly… detached, and he steps forward, rubbing his freezing hands together before waving awkwardly.

"Hey, gang." 

《-------------------------------------------------》

Kepler's gone, waving a temporary goodbye with a promise of return later on. Before Doug can make a move or even blink, Minkowski barrels into him, almost knocking him over. He apologizes, because he's not as sturdy as he once was, but she just tells him to shut up and squeezes tighter. She's so  _ warm,  _ and he doesn't want to move. 

"God, Doug, what happened to you?" 

Her voice is quiet, and the sad concern almost makes him want to answer, but he just shakes his head and holds her tighter.

《-------------------------------------------------》

As much as Doug hates to admit it, the station runs smoother with Kepler and his crew around. Unfortunately, it's still a secondhand hunk of junk. Inevitably, the climate control system overheats for the billionth time. 

He's sitting in his desk chair in the communication room when it happens, Minkowski and Lovelace hiding from Kepler and talking in the corner. He feels ok, and things almost seem… normal- at least, until Hera's oddly polite voice comes over the speakers. 

"Apologies, officers, but it appears that our temperature regulation unit has overheated. It's currently being reset, but the temperature will drop before the unit is repaired. Everything will remain inhabitable, but the station may be uncomfortable for the next few hours."

Well, shit. 

The chill comes no more than a second after Hera's warning, and with the chill comes panic. Suddenly he can't feel his fingertips or his nose and he  _ knows  _ the room isn't that cold yet but oh god, he can't stop shaking and his lungs are freezing and he can feel the cryo-frost creeping up and-

"-ffel. Eiffel!"

Doug can hear Minkowski and he thinks he can feel Lovelace shaking his shoulder but the frost is still moving up his arms and god, he doesn't want to go back in. 

"Doug?" 

Suddenly he's back in the real world- as real as a space station gets, anyway. He's still shaking and shivering and struggling to breath, but the frost is gone from his limbs. Minkowski is bent over in front of him, hands fluttering unsurely. Lovelace stands at his right shoulder, brows knit and one hand firmly grasping Doug's trembling, bony shoulder. For a second, he wonders why they aren't shivering like he is.

"Eiffel, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Minkowski asks, sounding way more concerned than he deserves. Her tone is anxious, maybe a little confused. Lovelace just continues to do the whole stoic concern thing she's so good at. Doug isn't entirely sure how to respond, so he just hunches in on himself and weakly shakes his head. Minkowski leans forward and wraps her arms around him, somewhat awkwardly, and Lovelace squeezes his shoulder, trying to offer what comfort she can. 

They stay like that for a while, and suddenly Doug realizes he's crying. "Sorry," he mumbles, reaching up to wipe his eyes. 

He can almost  _ hear  _ Lovelace frowning, and Minkowski just hugs tighter. The lines around her eyes crease and deepen, and into his shoulder, she quietly asks, "God, Doug, what happened to you?"

Ah, there it is. She pulled the Doug card. She's got to know that at this point it's a trump card, because Eiffel is Minkowski's annoying communications officer but Doug is Renee's best friend. It draws a watery chuckle out of him. "Are you sure you want to know?" He tries to throw a little humor into his voice, but it falls flat and he can't seem to draw the exhaustion out of his tone.

Renee- because she's Renee right now, not Minkowski- pulls back, stares him dead in the eye, and says, "Yes, Doug." That throws him for a loop.

Doug tries to make a joke, or a pun, or anything, but nothing comes out. He opens his mouth, closes it again, then resigns himself to his fate. He rests his elbows on the desk in front of him, placing his forehead in his hands. Then he talks.

"It's… I'm going to assume you've both had frostbite. Y'know that weird pins and needles, icy cold burning feeling? Multiply it by about a million, except it's all over your body and you have to physically chip the ice off with your fingertips because you have no nails left, and it's not like you have a choice because if you stop freezing yourself you're going to starve or die in some other  _ awful _ way and-" 

He chokes on his own breath, coughing. His lungs still burn from cryo, even though it's been months, and Lovelace pats his back and rubs his shoulder in that emotionally constipated but comforting manner she's so good at. Renee rubs a hand across her eyes and jesus, Doug made her cry. He should've stayed quiet. Just as he's choking out an apology, Renee looks up at him and her eyebrows are knit and all she says is "Doug, shut  _ up.  _ Stop apologizing." And then her head is in the crook of his neck and all he can do is lean over and let the tears building up behind his eyes again slip out. 

To his shock, Lovelace joins the hug, wrapping around him from behind. God, he loves this tiny, fucked up family. 

Maybe one day he'll share the full story, but for now he's content to stay right here, where it's warm and safe, and he doesn't feel so hungry and hollow for touch. 


End file.
